


Fight Me, Touch Me

by pacestries



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Bottom Luke, Frottage, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Some Plot, Sparring, The Mandalorian (TV) Season 2, They rub dicks after sparring that's it, Touch-Starved Din Djarin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:40:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29523075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pacestries/pseuds/pacestries
Summary: In which Din and Luke are sparring together, but things get a little heated once Luke has Din pinned to the ground.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 249





	Fight Me, Touch Me

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I am writing a cliché plot and no, I do not care. Enjoy!

_ They’ve been training for months now. _

Since Din had first arrived on the planet of Yavin IV, they’ve come to a certain agreement about visitation with the little green jedi-in-training, Grogu. He knew all too well how much he meant to him; Grogu had told Luke many stories about their epic adventures across the galaxy, traveling far and wide for a Jedi to take him under his wing. Fortunately, Luke had found him just in time. If he had waited any longer, who knows what could have happened to his newly accustomed friend.

Din was surprisingly lax with allowing Luke to take him to the new Jedi temple. He half expected a rebuttal, or perhaps even a fight in his honor. But ever since that painful goodbye aboard the cruiser, helmetless and tear-stained cheeks sullen with a loss that ached to the bone, Luke knew that he only wanted to do what was best for the kid. That’s why he trusted Din from the moment they met. If he wanted to cause harm to anyone, he would have done it already, and  _ easily _ at that. It was obvious that Din should be allowed to come and go as he pleased here, under the guise of secret tunnels to scramble any stragglers searching for the newly accosted temple hidden on the planet.

And after months of back-and-forth banter, bonding over the foundling and becoming far too familiar with the contours of his armor - something was stirring deep inside of him that he could not pinpoint. The butterflies that nestled in his stomach whenever Din went to look at him, the mystery of his gaze shrouded by beskar. Every time Din laughed at something silly he’d say, he could feel the way his cheeks heated unceremoniously, and Luke finally began to realize the truth of what was becoming of him.

_ Luke liked him. _

Now, as they stand poised in the training center, sweat beading into strands of blonde hair, Luke tries to choke down the curiosity of what that might look like for Din beneath all of those heavy layers.

“Attack me again.” Luke demands with a ragged breath, the saber at his side powering down as he stands up straighter somehow. He squares his shoulders and faces his opponent, confidence emanating through those piercing blue eyes. They never leave the sight of the Mandalorian, every twitch of finger accounted for in the jedi’s increased sense of perception. Such a feat is to his advantage, and he knows this; it is why when Din finally lunges at him that Luke is able to duck quickly out of the way. The saber finds its way to his hands and the piercing light shoots from the source, blocking the next swing of the dark saber. They stay like this for a moment, staring intently at each other, their staggering breaths synchronizing in the moment. 

There’s a weak spot in Din’s demeanor; a fleeting moment of distraction. Luke can sense this, and uses this to his advantage as he swings a leg around his stance and proceeds to topple the man over into the dirt below. Luke climbs over him and holds the saber dangerously close to his throat as it illuminates every drop of sweat beading onto skin. He feels victorious, and rightfully so. He managed to conquer the esteemed Mandalorian in an exhausting battle, and Luke can’t help but smile triumphantly towards the man pinned beneath his scrawny figure.

“You put up quite a fight. I’m impressed.” Luke offers the compliment with ease as he powers off the saber, hands dropping to either side of the beskar helmet. He’s panting visibly at the exertion of it all, and a few stray drops of liquid plop onto the polished silver. They’re so close, and yet so far away; the heat of their bodies creeping into his consciousness as Luke becomes increasingly aware of their lewd positioning. Features begin to flush at the realization, and attempts to peel away from the defeated Mandalorian.

That is, until those strong, gloved fingers encircle around the small of his waist, anchoring him there.

Din was never one for many words. When they spoke, Luke primarily carried the conversation with Din chiming in at necessary points, however Din was never much of a talker. Luke knew this, and he was okay with it. So when he wordlessly grabbed at his hips, it shouldn’t have surprised him as much as it did. Luke twitched at the contact, ocean eyes widening as he let his gaze wander over the expanse of his visor, reeling for any indication of why he was touching him in such a way.

Breathless, he whispers. “Din -”   
  


“ _ Luke. _ ” He speaks his name with such bravado that it leaves his brain spinning. The coarseness of his voice seems to echo into his subconscious, and his heart flutters at the sound. Din’s fingers trail circles onto clothed sides and oh, how for a fleeting moment he wished the fabric wasn’t there. Silently, he gulps at the emboldened thought.

“Stay here.”

Luke obliges wordlessly with a bashful nod of his head, diverting vision to the flecks of dirt staining shoulder pads. Despite being known as one of the most courageous Jedi in the galaxy, Luke was certainly shy when it came to such acts of intimacy. Exploratory hands migrate from their position at his hips as they graze along the length of his spine, experimentally traversing shoulders before running down the plains of his clothed chest. Luke shivers at the contact, eyelashes fluttering to a close as he revels in the sensation. He’s wanted Din to touch him for so long, that having it now certainly feels like bliss. A contented sigh dares to push past his lips and resound in the shared space between them.

Din, however, was growing restless. 

The upward roll of his hips into Luke’s serves as a reminder to their very positioning, and startles him from his clouded sense of fulfillment. There was something needy in the way he grinds back down into Din, reciprocating the motion with a sharp intake of breath as he feels something poking at the junction of his thigh. It is then Luke begins to tremble, lightly enough that one may not catch it if they weren’t looking for it. The way the heat rolls in the pit of his stomach leaves him breathless, and he cannot help rocking his hips at the sensation.

“Din?” It’s a half question, half statement that spills from his mouth, silently pleading with him to continue. The mystery of the helmet leaves Luke wondering what Din is feeling at this moment. Does this feel as good to him as it does for Luke? He gazes on with half-lidded eyes as he continues to grind into him, lips parted gently as his breathing grows heavy.

For Din, however, the pressure of their hips slotting together sends shockwaves through to the very core of his being. Everything is hot, molten by the desire that tingles beneath fingertips. The grip on the dark fabric of his shirt tightens, bunching up between knuckles.

“Take it off.” He commands, the light tremor in his voice disguised by the voice box embedded into helmet. Luke keens above him, and can feel his length twitch with interest. “Or I  _ will _ .”

Luke can’t remember a time he’s ever taken his tunic off at such breakneck speed. It’s sloppy and rushed, fueled by the anticipation of those hands getting to explore every inch of exposed flesh. His skin is glowing against the sunlight, dusted freckles along his shoulders and chest illuminated by the blush that blossoms beneath. Din’s gloved fingers seek purchase the moment the garment is discarded to the side, and Luke leans into it, whimpering lightly as he seems to hover over the perk of his nipple. Teeth gnaw into the swell of his lip, Luke’s own slender fingers toying with the strings of his waistband.

“Din,  _ please. _ I want to feel you.” Luke admits with a shuddered moan, and Din aids in helping him undo his trousers for him. Luke watches eagerly as Din slowly begins to remove himself, Luke working on his own garments until they’re free from the confines of their clothes. The air is cool against him, and he shivers at the sensation. Both of them are achingly hard, already beads of liquid seeping from the tip. Din thrusts upward experimentally, the friction of their lengths rubbing together enough to make toes curl. They’re rutting against each other like a pair of desperate , horny teenagers; but neither seem to care as they’re gasping in unison, the sheer pleasure coursing through them spurring on their haphazard ministrations.

In the heat of the moment, Din reaches between them, taking them both into his gloved hand and gives a single stroke. For Luke, such a bold gesture leaves him nearly seeing stars, the contrast of fabric against skin sending ripples of pleasure through to his groin. Once, twice, and now begins the fluid motion of his palm as Din begins to stroke them in earnest. Luke can hear the faint rasping of his breath in spite of the helmet, and hearing Din coming undone beneath him has him moaning in desperation, the sheer sound echoing through the chamber.

“Din - Oh, Din. I’m -- I’m close.” Luke is repeating his name like a mantra as his own slender hips meet his fist, thrusting in tandem with every stroke of his hand. It’s hot and it’s slippery from the pre-cum weeping from the tips of their cocks, the delicious friction driving him further into chasing bliss. With furrowed brows, Luke stares at their joined lengths as he fucks Din’s hand with vigor, the coiling in the pit of his stomach an indication of what’s soon to come. Din, however, keeps his gaze steadily on the blonde Jedi, piercing through his visor and locking onto the way he’s tearing into his swollen lips with teeth, sorely wishing it were his own leaving marks on sensitive skin. Silently he curses himself for his own pitfalls, but the case is short-lived as he listens to Luke plead for his own release; the way his entire body flushes causing Din to feel his own rise of pleasure surge to the forefront. He huffs raggedly in acknowledgement.

“Cum for me, then - _ Luke _ .” His voice resembles that of a whine as he instructs the young Jedi to succumb to it. Luke’s bare fingers grasp at the armor plates at his sides and his hips stutter in their motion against him. Luke’s frenzied thrusts continue until he’s crying out Din’s name and vision suddenly goes white; ropes of cum splattering onto armor, hips twitching as Luke rides out his high. Din isn’t far behind; he strokes himself a few more times before his hips lift from the ground and comes with a grunt, spilling onto himself and Luke. All that can be heard now is a pair of labored breathing, limbs shaking from the effort. 

Luke can hardly believe everything that had just happened. For so long he assumed that the feelings he harbored were unrequited; simply a manifestation of his own wants and desires. As he looks to Din he can feel the other staring at his naked form, and he can’t help but blush in response to such open vulnerability. What could Din possibly think of him now?

“You’re beautiful.”

Luke is taken aback by the sound of his voice, reverent and true in his proclamation. He cannot see him, but the way he frames the compliment leaves goosebumps rising on his skin regardless. It’s mixed with a sense of longing Luke understands, and he gives him a gentle smile in return.

“So are you, Din Djarin.” Luke confesses with a giggle lilting vocals, using the time to clean up the mess between them. He reaches for a spare rag and dabs at the armor lining abdomen, careful to reach for the little divots between plates as he wipes them up. Luke can hardly contain the giddiness floating in his chest, alight with feelings of mirth and exhilaration. 

“Very much so.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked! Feel free to leave a kudos if you did. DINLUKE RIGHTS!


End file.
